


Paradise

by mofumanju



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7875154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofumanju/pseuds/mofumanju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thank you, Yuu-kun,” and Makoto knows he is on the edge of crying, he can feel it on his voice. <br/>It’s the same for him, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt, another fic. THis time, the prompt was IzuMako; Take me to Paradise  
> I probably missed the prompt but well ;;
> 
> Doro know that I've thought of you all the time while I wrote this w

Makoto swallows hard, looking at Izumi, his eyes lingering on his senior’s shoulders, on his chest that raises and lowers almost frantically, as if he were restraining so much not to jump on him that very instant. He hates his mixed feelings so much, he hates how his whole body is asking to leave, and run as fast as possible from that man; he hates how his heart is screaming to stay.  
“Give me a chance,” Izumi said just a moment before, and how could Makoto ignore that plea, when he is the first one that wants to brush his fingers over that skin and burn the memory of that feeling on the back of his brain?  
Izumi smiles, broken, his eyes watery, gloomy and so desperately in love. Makoto knows he won't hurt him, he knows he just wants his best - he has always wanted that, even when Makoto run away from him, hiding because of fear, because of the last scraps of a past that keeps haunting him even now. He closes his eyes, and behind that simple gesture it hides a permission that makes Izumi hold his breath for a second.  
“Thank you, Yuu-kun,” and Makoto knows he is on the edge of crying, he can feel it on his voice.   
It’s the same for him, after all.  
Izumi’s hands rest on his shoulders, and Makoto can hear him filling his lungs with air and holding it there, seconds he spends in blindness and makes him feel not really uncomfortable, but something very similar.  
And then, in the blink of an eye, Izumi’s lips are pressing against his own, and they’re so soft, so gentle, that Makoto feels dazed, confused. It tastes like Heaven, that kiss Izumi has craved for who knows how long, it tastes like tears and unsaid words, well different from the _I love you_ Izumi drops every time they meet in the school hallway. Makoto sighs, and that little moan that has born in his throat dies inside Izumi’s mouth, crushed by his tongue that gently brushes his lower lip, his teeth, before entering.   
And God, he wants to die there.  
He loves him. He loves him not. The love he felt when he was younger has faded long ago, becoming something heavy and too difficult to put into words. Now he tastes the melancholy of those times far gone and wants to cry, because he wants them back.  
“Onii-chan,” he whispers, and for once he doesn't regret it. He opens his eyes just to see Izumi’s a face flustered, painted in a bright red that is almost sweet. He looks like a fish without air, his mouth shaped in a little ‘o’ that opens and closes without emitting any sound. Makoto smiles, brushing away the trail left by a single tear who rolled down his cheek when he wasn't looking, probably. “Why are you crying now, seriously…”  
“I love you,” Izumi’s grip around his shoulders is strong, desperate. Everything about Izumi sounds desperate, but that’s nothing new. “I love you so much, Yuu-kun. I didn't mean any harm, I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't -” and Makoto interrupts the flow of words, the flow of sorrow before it’s too late, before he drowns in it and dies because of a heart broken into pieces.  
“I know. It’s over, now.”   
He doesn't say anything more. Makoto throws his arms around Izumi’s head and holds him tight on his chest, the sound of a thousand broken sobs filling his ears and nurturing his heart.   
He wants it to go well.  
Maybe, he will be able to taste Paradise, after all.


End file.
